Sitting ducks
by MrSnippets
Summary: A short story about the crew of a Mako tank. Deployed to take back a city fallen to the reapers, Desmond and Nyra don't know what they've gotten themselves into.
1. Chapter 1

Desmond stroked the stubble around his chin, his eyes peeled on the image in front of him. Through the scope of the Mako's main cannon he had spotted a group of six, maybe seven Cannibals, crouching over a pile of bodies. They were … feeding. He frowned, disgusted, as his driver spoke up.

"What are they doing?" she asked.

When Desmond turned away from the monitor, his eyes and those of the asari met.

"It seems like they're feeding …" He answered reluctantly, not really wanting the image in his head. In response, Nyra twisted her face in a mask of disgust.

"Goddess, I hate those things."

"Tell me about it." Desmond answered with a tortured grin, as he opened a channel to the two other Makos in his convoy.

"Two and three, come in. This is one. We've got a contact on our twelve, 200 meters, at the bridge, around seven hostiles. They haven't spotted us yet."

The radio cracked in response as the two other tanks answered.

"Copy that, one. What's our strategy?"

"Two, to my left, three to my right. We rush them, take them out and quickly cross that bridge. I don't want to be on there when those Harvesters show up again."

The two other tanks rumbled into position beside him, acknowledging his command.

"Alright Nyra. Let's do this."

"Yes, sir!" she grinned as she pinned the throttle to the ground. The wheels of the Mako spun around before getting a grip in the rubble, catapulting them forward. Desmond trained the crosshair on the cannibal furthest away from them, but didn't fire right away. If they fired too soon, the cannibals would be given a chance to retreat, get into cover or call for help. When they crossed half of the distance, the first cannibal stood up and growled at them.

"They spotted us! Light them up!" Desmond shouted into his radio, firing his own cannon.

The first explosion ripped two cannibals apart, startling the rest. Two explosions followed in quick succession, as Two and Three joined Desmond.

When they reached the position where the cannibals had been, not much remained. Three blackened craters marked the impact of the cannon rounds, the area around them peppered with reaper-remains.

"Alright, press on. Let's cross that bridge!" Desmond barked as Nyra directed the tank onto the bridge, crossing rubble and debris as she did.

A strange silence had settled over the scene as they sped over the bridge. Normally, the noise of the cannons would have attracted more reaper forces, but somehow the only sound was the distant echo of explosions and the hum of their motors.

"Sir, we've got a problem!" Nyra announced, pulling Desmond out of his thoughts of where the enemy could be.

In front of them, the burnt out husk of a frigate had crashed onto the bridge, dangling off to one side, blocking their exit. Although they had thrusters to cross some heights, jumping over the ship and right into unknown territory wasn't something Desmond wanted to do lightly. It was the perfect spot for an ambush.

"That Reaper must've shot down that ship." Nyra concluded.

That was probably how it had happened. In the initial Battle of the city, a small Reaper had landed right in the center of it, spewing out infantry and heavy armor like a wound seeping pus. A combination of frigates and cruisers had chased it away, but not before losing many of their own like the ship in front of them. In retrospect, 'chasing away' was probably the wrong phrase, as the Reaper ended up following the retreating ships, effectively chasing _them_.

"What do we do now?" Mako Three asked, her tank bringing up the rear.

Desmond hesitated. He was unsure what to do – finding a way around the bridge would take substantially longer, but jumping over the wreck of the ship would leave them vulnerable to anything ambush that might be waiting for them.

His thoughts were interrupted by a bone chilling scream, a guttural howl, followed by a second one.

"Harvesters!" Nyra screamed, trying to align the Mako so that their back wouldn't be exposed. From up the river, two pairs of wings took to the sky, carrying coiling bodies that looked like a mix between a dragon and a worm.

"Shoot them!" Desmond shouted, opening fire himself.

Dashing to the side, the two Harvesters evaded their shots while closing the distance between them. The first one whirled around, spewing something from its maw, engulfing Mako Three. The tank ruptured in a deafening blast, shaking the bridge itself.

The second Harvester pounced Mako Two, flipping it over before taking to the sky again. Desmond spun the turret around, sweat running down his neck, and fired. Finally, a shot connected as a cannon round hit the ascending beast. It ripped a hole into the creature, tearing away a wing. It plummeted into the river, screeching while it fell.

The relief was short, as the first Harvester had come around again, firing two shots from its maw. The first one pierced Mako Two's armor, destroying it in a red fireball. The second blast hit Mako One, whirling it towards the edge of the bridge where it slammed against the guard rail.

Desmond's head spun and little white flashes danced through his vision. The blast had cracked a monitor in front of him, and the rest displayed red warning signs.

"Mako two and three are down!" Nyra announced as she tried to pry the tank away from the guard rail. The Harvester screeched again.

Desmond spun the turret around again, targeting the flapping monster. He pulled the trigger, but instead of a satisfying boom, he was rewarded with a spray of sparks and another cracked monitor.

"Shit!" he cursed.

"What just happened?!" Nyra asked with increasing panic in her voice.

"The gun is overheating! That last hit must've hit our cooling system! We're sitting ducks!"

The Harvester had come around again, screeching while it swooped in for a nose dive.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Desmond cursed, trying to fire the coaxial machine gun, only to be greeted by more sparks and shards of broken monitor.

Their escape was blocked. Behind them, the wrecks of Mako two and three formed an obstacle they couldn't cross, and jumping into unknown territory in front of them without working guns was suicide.

The tank wheeled around, finally prying itself away from the guard rail, and sped towards the other side of the bridge.

"I've got an idea!" Nyra exclaimed excited.

"What are you…" Desmond asked, before the realization hit him. The Harvester screeched behind them.

"Oh shit!" The last word extended into a joint scream of the two as the Mako crashed through the guard rail. For a second they were airborne, a strange feeling that twisted Desmond's stomach.

The Harvester screamed again, robbed of its prey as the river swallowed them.


	2. Chapter 2

Nyra stood silently next to the tank, an Avenger rifle clenched in her hands. The sun was setting in the West, dipping the streets of the New Ghent in a deep red, its rays reflecting in the little pools of water that had gathered beneath the Mako. If it wasn't for the destruction and the fighting in the distance, she mused, this might have been a beautiful human city once.

Behind her, inside a large hangar, stood the Mako, with Desmond working inside it. He was trying his best to repair the damage done by the Harvester, but his muffled curses indicated that it wasn't working.

But it was better than the alternative. Mako two and three had been destroyed, and they too had only escaped thanks to her quick thinking. The sun felt warm on her skin. Her eyelids had become so heavy since they had disembarked. She yawned.

The sun was almost completely gone, darkness creeping in from the other side of the horizon. The gunfire and explosions had dwindled to a distant whisper. Nyra yawned again.

With a curse, Desmond appeared from behind the tank, wiping his hands on a piece of cloth, his face a mask of anger and frustration.

She turned towards him, her heart beating faster. The last rays of the sun disappeared behind the mountains in the distance.

"Any luck?" She asked although his expression had already given her the answer.

He put the cloth away and ran his fingers through his hair, sighing.

"We have a problem." He began. "That last shot hit our cooling system, which means we can't fire our damn guns!" His voice was thick with frustration. She hated seeing him like this.

Ever since she'd been assigned to the 52nd Cavalry division, ever since meeting Desmond, there was _something _she felt when he was around. She just couldn't quite put her finger on _what_.

"Well, that's technically not true …" he objected with a tortured grin. "We can fire our gun _once _before blowing out our cooling system completely and frying the internal sensors. After that, we're dead in the water."

"Shit…" Nyra cursed, placing the butt of her rifle on the ground while scratching the back of her neck – a gesture she'd picked up from working with humans every day. "We could try to vent the excess heat into the drive-core's cooling system?" she offered after a moment of consideration.

"Good idea, but we could only fire a few shots before overheating the whole thing. Then we'd be without guns _and _couldn't move."

"And that's not even the worst part." Desmond continued. "Our communications are down, which means we can't call for backup OR extraction."

They walked back to the tank. Desmond leaned his back against one of the wheels and sighed, thinking. Nyra was tired. She had to concentrate to keep her eyes open. Something inside her just wanted to push Desmond against that wheel and kiss him, run her fingers through his hair and over his chest. When she realized what she was thinking about, she turned away, embarrassed.

"You okay, Ny?" Desmond asked, noticing her sudden movement.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just … tired, that's all." She answered, trying to convince herself just as much.

"What am I thinking?!" she thought to herself. "He's my Commander! Besides, we're not even the same species! And this really isn't the time! No, no, it must be fatigue. I haven't slept in a while, that's all."

He walked up beside her.

"Well, no sense in getting ourselves killed by driving around at night with no means of defense." He said as her heart started beating faster.

"I say we sit tight, get some sleep, and try to figure something out tomorrow."

"A-agreed." She stammered. "What is happening to me?!" She thought to herself.

"I'll take first watch. You get in the tank and try to get some sleep, alright?" He opened is palm.

She handed him the rifle, yawning again. Maybe sleep wasn't such a bad idea.


	3. Chapter 3

She stood in a wide, open field. The air was cold, but clear, and felt good on her skin. A little breeze whipped the flowers back and forth, dancers following a rhythm set by nature. She looked around, searching for anyone, anything. She was alone. Almost. On the edge of the field crouched a figure, hunkered down as if it didn't want to be seen.

"Hello?" Nyra asked. The figure didn't answer or react. She took a few steps forward, then asked again.

"Hello?"

The figure reacted, raising its head, but didn't turn around. She walked the rest of the way, a cold wind blowing in her face.

"Can you hear me?" she asked when she stood directly behind the figure. It looked humanoid. A piece of cloth, smeared with a black substance, lulled out of one of its pockets.

She didn't say anything, couldn't say anything. Her eyes widened in horror as the creature turned around, revealing its grey skin, pierced by tubes and electronics. White eyes without pupils stared at her, the maw of the thing opening in a terrifying howl. Somehow, that _thing_ looked … familiar. Was that …?

She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound escaped her.

The creature lunged forward, plunging her into darkness.

She awoke, gasping for air.

It took her a moment to realize where she was. The familiar inside of the Mako greeted her blinking eyes. A blanket covered her feet, but she didn't remember putting it there. A quick check of her Omni-Tool told her it was morning. Desmond hadn't woken her for her watch. Her heart beat faster, her eyes widened as she realized the possible reasons.

She threw away the blanket, grabbed a pistol from the locker and scrambled to the exit. She almost fell out of the tank as she stumbled through the hatch.

The first thing she noticed was the cold. A bitter, creeping cold engulfed her feet, pulling at them, draining the warmth. The second thing was the thick fog that had spread even into the hangar.

She looked around, searching for Desmond. Her breath formed little white clouds as it exited her mouth. He was nowhere to be seen. She started running towards the exit, her heart beating faster and faster. Her muscles stung.

"No, no, no, no." she thought to herself while running, clenching her teeth. How could this be? Was she still dreaming? Her steps echoed from the hangar walls.

She darted past the entrance, past a startled figure. She spun around, training the pistol right at the figure.

"Whoa, Ny, it's me! It's me!" the figure exclaimed, raising both hands.

It took Nyra a moment to realize that Desmond was standing in front of her. She couldn't look more surprised.

"What? Desmond? But I thought you … How? Wha …?" she stammered, chastising herself internally for muttering like an idiot again.

"I though they got you! I was going to …" She lowered the gun when she realized she had still trained it on Desmond. It felt so heavy in her hands. The cold pulled at her feet.

"I was just checking the area while you were sleeping. Speaking of which, how's our little sleepy-head?" He grinned his usual grin again. As if they weren't in the middle of a war zone.

She wanted to punch him. Exploring a reaper-infested city alone, like it was a game! He could have been killed. Or worse, captured! She remembered her dream.

"Much better, thanks." She lied. Her muscles ached. "But why didn't you wake me for my watch? Aren't you tired?"

"Nah." He answered and struck a pose like a body builder, flexing his muscles. "This machine never tires."

She had to chuckle. His stupid jokes always made her chuckle. She was still angry, but somehow the cold didn't seem so bad now. His face visibly lit up.

"Come one, let's get inside. I've got big news."

They walked the short distance back to the Mako. After they'd climbed back inside, Nyra took her usual place on the driver seat, as Desmond began to speak.

"So I've scouted the general area last night." He opened a holographic display of a map on his Omni-Tool. "The main enemy force seems to have moved further east. But there are still groups of Husks, Cannibals and Marauders patrolling the streets."

Nyra opened a MRE and pressed the protein-paste inside in her mouth. It tasted like rubber.

"Anything we don't already know?" she asked, more hostile than was appropriate. Desmond hesitated, taken aback by the harsh comment.

"… Sir?" she added quickly, trying to cover up the awkward silence.

She quickly pressed more paste inside her mouth to stop her from saying something stupid.

"Eh … Yeah. I also found out about one of our recon-teams. Do you remember Echo-team?"

"The one that sent the distress call before we hit the bridge?"

"The very same. They were wiped out, but I found their tank, and it looks to be in good enough shape. We could scavenge some parts, try repairing our cooling system! And that's not even the best part – I found their distress beacon!"

Nyra jerked upright, intrigued.

"If it still works, we could use it to call for evac!" she said excitedly.

"My point exactly! Gear up, the site's not too far from here."

With that, Desmond exited the Mako again, leaving Nyra behind. If Desmond's plan worked, they would be able to call for help, or, at the very least, get their guns working again. She thought back to her dream as she readied herself to leave.

Hopefully, it would stay a dream.


	4. Chapter 4

Desmond kept his eyes peeled. The thick fog had intensified, and a short while after they'd left their hiding spot, a soft snowfall had set in. It reminded him of days long past. The image of two figures running towards him, arms waving and screaming appeared in his mind.

He pushed down the painful memory, focusing on the task at hand instead.

They were sitting in the crater of an explosion next to a burnt-out shop, probing their environment for clues of enemy movement.

"It's not too far now!" he whispered to Nyra who crouched right behind him. The asari nodded silently, their only Avenger-rifle firmly in her hands.

He just hoped that it was the right way. When he had scouted the area last night, the plan to scavenge had seemed so simple. Now, with all the fog and snow, it all looked a lot different. His senses told him to go one way, but his gut told him to go another. And the cold …

Normally, he didn't mind the cold at all. Growing up in Solitude, the probably coldest human colony ever built, he was accustomed to freezing cold. But this, somehow, was something different. He felt vulnerable, like swimming in a deep ocean, not knowing what might be lurking beneath you. He turned towards Nyra again.

She looked at something distant, her eyes trying to pierce the thick, grey blanket that covered the whole city. His eyes lingered for a moment. Even here, amidst all this destruction and in this cold, she still looked so … beautiful. A familiar feeling filled his chest, a feeling he had tried his utmost to suppress. Suddenly, somehow, the cold didn't seem to be so bad anymore. She noticed his stare.

"Something wrong, sir?"

He squinted his eyes, focusing his thoughts.

"No, nothing's wrong. Let's move."

They vaulted over the crater wall, hurrying towards the corner of a building. Once they reached it, they pressed their backs against the wall, as Desmond peeked around the corner.

A destroyed car still slung a thin pillar of smoke in the air, the fire that fueled it almost extinguished. Desmond rejoiced in silence – the burning car meant they'd taken the right way. The remains of echo-team were so close.

"Just through that building, up one floor, drop down on a square on the other side. Move!"

Nyra bolted for the building, crossing the street as fast as she could. When she reached the entrance of what used to be an apartment-complex, she turned around, peeked around the corner, and waited for him to catch up.

He braced himself, then started running.

Something moved on the far side of the street. Around a corner, a brown, hulking mass of flesh and electronics appeared, exhaling a white stream of air from its maw.

"Shit, shit, shit." He cursed with a hushed voice. He really was in an abysmal position. He'd run too far from the corner to make it back without the Brute noticing, but still was too far away to make it to Nyra. The latter had spotted the Brute as well and was now waving for him to get to her, petrified.

The beast hadn't spotted him yet. He cursed one last time, then jumped behind the wreck of the car, towards the Brute.

The thing turned its head, alerted by the sound. It took a step towards the car. Desmond hunkered down behind it, holding his breath.

The thing took another step. Nyra watched, her eyes widened in horror. She raised her rifle.

The Brute took another step, effectively standing beside Desmond. A giant metal-claw supported its weight, equally big as a human. The thing raised its head, smelling the air with three loud smells.

A Marauder appeared around the corner, barking at the brute in a guttural growl. The beast turned around, roared back, and followed the corrupted turian.

When the Brute had vanished into the fog, Nyra came sprinting towards him.

"Come on, we have to move before they come back!" He was visibly shaken.

"You okay?" she asked, genuinely concerned.

Desmond had never been so terrified in his life. He hated being exposed like that. But he had to pull through, push down this fear. If not for himself, at least for her. Screwing up would put her in danger. And he would be damned before letting that happen.

"I'm fine. We're almost there."

They entered the building and took the stairs up to the first floor. Through a window, they could finally see the tanks he'd spoken of. They were two in total. One was flipped over, its armor ripped open and splattered with a black and crimson substance. Desmond didn't want to think about what had happened here. On the far side of the square stood some of those spikes Intel had named 'Dragon's teeth'. A single Marauder patrolled between the two destroyed tanks.

"One hostile, between the tanks." Nyra whispered.

"I see him. Best we deal with him quietly. I don't want him calling his friends."

Nyra scratched the back of her neck. It was a sign that she was thinking. Desmond smiled involuntarily.

"I could hide behind the right tank, lure him towards me. You go around the other side and kill him while he's distracted."

"Sounds good. You lure him towards you on my mark, okay?"

She nodded, and they made their way down the balcony.

She took her position, and he took his. "God, I hope this works" he whispered to himself as he signaled Nyra to start the distraction.

A stone flew, smacking against the side of the left Mako-tank. The Marauder turned around, raising his weapon instantly. When he didn't see any imminent threat, he moved in closer to inspect the noise.

Desmond moved out of cover, inching his way forward. If the Marauder turned around now, he would be cut down in an instant. He took another step forward.

The Marauder stopped and looked left and right. Desmond had to move fast. He abandoned the silent approach and darted towards the corrupted turian, closing the gap between them in moments.

For the first time ever, Desmond saw something resembling fear in the eyes of one of those corrupted things, as he pressed his pistol between its mandibles and pulled the trigger. The hull of the Mako was splattered in blue goo, the body of the Marauder slumping down to the ground.

Nyra appeared from around the corner, examined the corpse of the turian and grinned.

"Nice work, sir!"

Desmond would be lying if he didn't felt good. Killing one of those things and Nyra smiling made up for the scare before. He grinned as well.

"Alright, enough dilly-dallying! Let's get the distress beacon and look what things we can salvage from these babies!"

Before getting to work on the tanks, Desmond took off his helmet and ran his fingers through his hair. The air felt cool against his skin, little snowflakes melting on his face. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, Nyra was looking at him and smiling.

Maybe, just maybe they could pull this off.


	5. Chapter 5

Although the weather had worsened, Desmond was in an optimistic mood. Snow drifted through the air, twisting and whirling as it was tossed around by the wind. It started to coat the world in a thin blanket of white. Exhaling, he smiled, and his breath formed a little white cloud.

Nyra knelt beside a tripod, typing away on her Omni-Tool. They'd found the distress beacon, but it was damaged and needed to be realigned before their signal would be of any use.

She took a step back and scratched the back of her head, her eyes still fixed on the beacon.

Desmond had to smile, his stomach filling with a warm feeling. He shook his head slightly, chastising himself for grinning like an idiot, and focused on his task as he turned around.

The inside of the Mako looked eerily intact. No blood or any sign of struggle were noticeable. He looked around, concentrating.

The main cooling cell had to be behind a grate to his left. He brought up his Omni-Tool, flash-forging a crow bar to help him pry it open.

The metal screeched tortured as he broke open the grate, screws being torn out of their sockets. It fell down noisily, revealing a cylindrical tube that looked like it had been roasted.

He twisted his mouth in a half-frown. The cell had been in use extensively – not ideal for their endeavor, but it had to do. They didn't have any other options. He put away the crowbar, the glow of the Tool extinguishing with it. He felt the cold pull at his feet.

"Come to papa." He murmured to himself as he tried to take the cell out of its socket. It wouldn't budge.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me!" He said louder, frustration growing inside him.

He pulled again, but the tube didn't move.

"All done!" Nyra announced cheerfully. "The beacon is good to go!"

"Hey Ny, would you mind coming inside here for a minute? I need an extra pair of hands!" He called without letting go of the tube.

"Yeah, sure!" he heard her say, her voice muffled by the snow.

She entered, radiating a smile that forced him to smile as well.

"Having trouble, sir?" she grinned.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Come one, I need some extra muscle for this!"

She positioned herself behind him, reaching over his shoulders to grab the other side of the cell. He'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy being this close to her.

"Alright, on three. One, two, _three_!" The tube inched towards them, but was still stuck.

"Again! One, two, _three_!" They pulled again. He could feel her breath on his neck. He smiled. The tube was almost freed.

"Okay, one last time! One, two _three!"_

The cell popped out of its socket, but the two of them had used too much force. It spun away, flinging itself against the other wall of the Mako, and fell to the ground, clanking.

Desmond lost his footing, toppling over backwards, taking Nyra with him. They fell to the ground, and Desmond ended up on top of Nyra.

"Oh crap, sorry Ny! Are you okay?" he said, moaning slightly. He was embarrassed as hell, blood rushing to his face. He'd never been clumsy, why did he start now?

"Yeah … I'm … fine." She answered. She breathed deep and slow, and Desmond hoped he hadn't hurt her.

"I'm so sorry. I usually never …" he started, trying to get up, but failing. Something held him down.

It took him a moment to realize Nyra was holding him.

"Hey … what are you …" he stammered, breathing white clouds into the cold air.

She didn't answer. Instead, she placed her hand on his check, softly running her fingers across it. She was shaking slightly.

Desmond's mind went crazy, unable to form a coherent thought. It all felt like a dream, like something he'd tried to block out a long time ago.

She inched her face closer to his, parting her blue lips, closing her eyes. He could hear her breathe heavily. The wind howled outside the tank. He could feel the heat emanating from her skin on his.

His heart beat faster; he could feel it in his throat. If this was a dream, he didn't want to wake up. Ever since meeting Nyra, there was _something _between them. He didn't want to believe it at first, wanted to tell himself that he was imagining things, that he wasn't thinking straight.

He raised his hand and cupped it around her cheek. She reacted by placing her other hand on his.

This was what he wanted. He wanted _her_.

He tilted his head slightly and inched it forward, closing his eyes.

A guttural scream ripped the silence apart. Desmond and Nyra snapped their eyes open, startled. He got up, taking the few steps towards the open hatch and peeked outside.

On the far side of the square, five cannibals and a marauder had appeared. The latter was barking orders in an animalistic voice, gesturing towards the two tanks.

"Oh fuck." Desmond cursed.

"What is it?" Nyra asked as she got up carefully, snatching the cooling-cell from the floor.

"Five hostiles. They're coming our way. We …"

He couldn't even finish his sentence, when the big form of a brute appeared behind the group of enemies.

"Scratch that. Five hostiles and a brute."

He looked around nervously, thinking of the best way to deal with this.

"There is no way we can take them all out. Our only option is to grab the cooling cell, grab the beacon, and get the hell out of here."

Nyra had appeared beside him and peeked out of the hatch as well.

"By the goddess …" she murmured, as more cannibals appeared behind the Brute.

"Fuck!" Desmond cursed, grabbing his pistol from his hip. Nyra reached for the rifle that was lying on the ground. "You make for the building we came from, I'll grab the beacon. Let's move!"

She nodded and sneaked out of the hatch, the cooling cell hanging from her waist.

Desmond silently slid forward towards the beacon. The Reapers were occupied with something else, thankfully.

He reached the tripod and began to fold it up, when he noticed a little red, blinking light.

"What the …" he began, when the light turned green and the automated message began playing.

"CHARGING CYCLE COMPLETE. COMENCING DISTRESS CALL."

A loud siren sounded, almost deafening Desmond. Every Reaper on the square looked at him.

He turned towards Nyra, who stood by the building, eyes wide in horror. He screamed over the noise of the beacon.

"RUN!"

He dashed forward, leaving the beacon behind. Moments later, gunfire exploded around him, ripping open the ground in cascades of dirt. A few shots hit the beacon, but it kept on broadcasting its loud siren.

They went into the building, explosions and shots tearing apart its facade. Dashing past tables and chairs, they simply crashed through the glass door of the front shop, never stopping to run.

When they had brought a few meters between them and the building, Nyra asked mid-run.

"You think we lost them?"

Her question was answered as the Brute smashed through the shop's front in a murderous charge. Cannibals were pouring through the hole, firing at them, as the beast didn't stop its advance and followed them, roaring.

The scrambled down the street, when an explosion obliterated the window to Desmond's left. It threw him off his feet, and he fell to the ground hard.

The world spun around him, filled with smoke and snow and blood. He coughed, sprinkling the dirty snow with red dots.

Nyra screamed his name and ran back to him, forcing him to his feet, putting his arm around her neck. She said something as they began hobbling, but the ringing in his ears prevented Desmond from understanding. The Brute was almost upon them, and when he turned his head around, it had already raised its claw in a striking pose, bulldozing towards them.

He wanted to scream, but his mouth was too dry.

Another explosion ripped the air apart. When Desmond looked again, the Brute was staggering, a significant part of its shoulder missing. It roared in pain and anger, when a second blast hit it right between the shoulders, splattering its head across the ground.

From down the street, a Mako-tank appeared through the snow, firing its machine gun at the cannibals behind them. Nyra shouted something, but Desmond still couldn't make it out. His vision started to blur. A red trail formed in the snow behind him.

They started running again, as best as they could. Desmond's side hurt, and the color started to fade from his vision.

They passed the lone tank, its gun still firing. Further away, down the road, a group of silhouettes approached them. Nyra sat him down gently and started to speak. He finally understood what she said.

"We're save now! You relax here, I'll talk to the commanding officer, okay? I'll be back in a second!"

He nodded, disoriented. The edges of his vision started to blacken. Nyra ran towards the figure, waving with her arms, shouting something.

A shot fell. Nyra stopped running, looking at her belly. Desmond's eyes and mouth opened in horror.

Nyra collapsed on the snow-covered street.

He screamed her name. Over and over, he screamed until his voice was hoarse. She didn't react. The figures argued about something and began running towards her.

He tried to get up, but his legs gave in under his own weight. He cursed, and started crawling towards her, screaming her name. When he reached her, his fingers were half frozen and bloody.

She looked so peaceful with her eyes closed, like she was only taking a nap. It reminded him of how he put the blanket over her feet the night before, when she slept in the Mako. Tears started to gather in his eyes. The figures had reached them as well.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry! I thought she was a husk, the way they wave their arms and all!" a young soldier stammered as another called for a medic.

Rage replaced grief. Desmond looked up, into the eyes of the young soldier who had spoken.

"What have you done?!" he screamed at him with tears in his eyes, exhaustion and anger in his voice. He reached for his pistol and aimed it at the young soldier.

"He's got a gun!" another soldier shouted, and a third one tackled him, knocking the pistol out of his grasp. He toppled over backwards. The air felt cold against his skin. The snowflakes didn't melt when they fell down on him; the edges of his vision had turned to black. The soldiers shouted something, but he didn't understand.

He mouthed Nyra's name, but his voice was gone. His vision blurred and he closed his eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

A distant chatter filled her ears, like people talking very far away. A phone rang. Someone answered it. The chatter died down, then resumed after a few moments.

She opened her eyes, breathing in.

The first thing she noticed was how bright everything was. It blinded her at first, forcing her to squint her eyes. When she had adjusted to the brightness, she noticed the plastic strap around her mouth and nose. It made it easier to breathe, almost blowing the air inside her. It was nice, but the strap was rather tight, so she took it off.

She lay in a bed, surrounded by white plastic and glass. Beside her, a monitor displayed a pale white line on a black background, continuously wandering from left to right, peaking and falling in a steady rhythm. A bag filled with transparent liquid hung from a metal pole, connected to the back of her hand by a white tube.

The air felt cold, but her bed was warm. Her stomach itched a little bit. She looked around.

At first she thought she was alone, but to her side sat a person, slumped down on a chair, eyes closed. The figure appeared human. A beard covered almost his entire lower face.

When she moved to take a better look, the person stirred and opened his eyes.

"Nyra!" Desmond exclaimed ecstatic, hugging her, burying his face into the blanket that covered her. "I thought I lost you."

She was confused, disoriented. It all came back to her now. The mission in New Ghent, their plan to activate the distress beacon, their moment in the destroyed Mako. The wild chase through the icy streets. Her stomach itched.

"Desmond?"

He looked up, smiling through his rugged beard, his eyes watery.

"How long was I out? What happened? Where are we?"

"It's okay! We're safe! We're in an Alliance hospital. You've been out for almost three weeks!"

She wanted to scratch the back of her neck, but the infusion-tube wasn't long enough, stopping her mid-way.

"I … three weeks? What happened? Didn't we reach another team?"

"… Yeah, we did." He hesitated.

"When I got hit, you carried me to safety. But then, some …" His face hardened as he clenched his teeth and he spat out the word. "_Idiot _shot you. I tried to help you, but I thought …"

He stroked his beard, visibly upset. Then he took a deep breath.

"You got hit by friendly fire. A new guy mistook you for a husk."

She sighed. This was all quite much to take in. A grin hushed over her face.

"So, you're telling me I'm so bad looking someone mistook me for a husk?"

Desmond had to laugh, his face lighting up in the process. The hardness fell from his expression. Nyra's belly filled with a warm feeling as she grinned.

"What happened to you? You were pretty hurt, as I recall?" Nyra asked after a while.

"You're right. Didn't help that I got tackled after you were shot."

"Goddess, why would someone tackle you?!"

"I … kind of tried to shoot the guy who shot you."

There it was again. That warm, pulsating feeling in her stomach that slowly spread to her throat. Only now, she knew what it was. She pulled the breathing-mask over her head, tossed it aside and pulled a startled Desmond close.

"This is for trying to avenge my death." She hushed, grinning. Then she pressed her lips on his.

Her mind exploded, her lips were on fire. She could feel his warmth, could smell his scent, could taste his lips. It was all she could think about, it replaced everything that ever was or would be important. There was only her and him.

After what felt like an eternity, their lips parted. They lingered close to each other for a moment, before retreating completely. Desmond smiled from one ear to the other. Nyra was happy.

"You know, while you were out, I also tried to avenge your death multiple times over …"

"Oh _really _…" she grinned, pulling one eyebrow up.

"Yeah, of course. There were at least a dozen attempts on your life. I tried to avenge those as well. I think I deserve some kind of reward for that as well, don't you think?" He moved in closer, smiling.

"Sure you do …" Nyra grinned as she embraced him in a second kiss. His beard tickled slightly.

She was happy.


End file.
